


American Whisky

by whatintheworld



Category: Hobbs & Shaw (2019)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, First Time, It's way too late for this, Light Angst, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, good lord what am I doing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-15
Updated: 2019-08-15
Packaged: 2020-09-01 05:49:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20253166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whatintheworld/pseuds/whatintheworld
Summary: Deckard would never admit it till the end of his days, but Luke insisted that at that moment, he screamed. And yes, he might have, because right then it got good.





	American Whisky

Deckard rubbed his fingers on the rim of his glass and licked his lips. There wasn’t much for him to do now that Briston was dead, and his sister was alive. They had all returned to L.A. and His sister had abandoned him. Well, not really. She had fucked off to some odd hotel or something, claiming she had “important business”, and Deckard let her go. 

They would figure something out, maybe visit Mum back in England. But right now, he had something else to worry about. He was at Luke Hobbs’s house, in LA, sipping some American whisky, and Sam wasn’t home. She was at a friends birthday party.

Luke was staring at him from over the rim of his whisky tumbler with the most alluring eyes Deckard had seen on a man that large. They were saying something along the lines of 'Don’t let me fuck you, and you’ll be sorry,' and hell, Deckard couldn’t have said no if he wanted. But, hey, it’s always fun to make the bastards work for it. 

“Shaw,” Luke growled, in those deep tones of his, and Deckard couldn’t help licking his lips again.

“Hobbs.” 

“I think I promised you some fun, princess.” Luke shifted and grinned (he had offered Deckard some fun in the nights leading up to the whole New York mess, and Deckard declined with a chaste kiss and a “Maybe after this is all over fucker.”). 

Deckard nodded and set down his tumbler, leaning his waist on the counter, and made a face that he hoped said ‘come and get me, then.’ It must have since Luke’s pupils nearly eclipsed his iris’s and he flew forward. 

Deckard found himself squished to the counter, a mouth on his and gentle hands settling on his hips. Luke’s teeth bit at his lips and Deckard couldn’t help but let out a puff of hot air and what he would never admit was a whine. 

When a tongue nearly forced its way into his mouth, he let it in, all the while wiping his into Luke's. The kiss was hot, and searing, and made him want to scream. He nearly did when fingers dug into his hips in that just right way, _just_ hard enough to leave marks. 

Instead of shouting as bloody loud as he wanted, Deckard opted for a drawn-out moan. When Hobbs’s hands retreated, and his eyes asked a question over kiss bruised lips, Deckard realized that the moan might have been a bit louder than intentional. 

“Don’t you fuckin’ dare, Hobbs. Don’t you fuckin’ dare be gentle with me,” he growled, and hooked a leg around Luke’s. Luke’s thigh slid in between his and Luke huffed softly.

“Fuck, Deckard,” Luke gulped and leaned down, suckling on Deckard’s neck. And _fuck_, if that wasn’t the best thing Dedkard had ever felt he didn’t know what was. He rolled his hips and let out a horrid symphony of sounds he had never come from his own throat. Hands encircled his hips once more and they _crushed_, giving him all the pleasure-pain he wanted. 

How he was able to muster up enough control to lift a hand off the counter edge he didn’t know, but once he did, he knew where it was going. Deckard slowly stroked over the massive bulge in Hobbs’s pants. When he did get the fly undone and pulled Luke's massive prick out into the air, he could practically feel Hobbs’s moan vibrate through his chest. 

His wrist was in an extremely uncomfortable position, but fuck, if he wasn’t going to stop stroking the silky smooth skin under his hand, he didn’t know what to do. Time passed by Deckard’s head in a rush, and then slowly forced his hips to stop. He was going to fucking spunk, right there, like a fucking _teenager_. 

“Hold up, Luke,” he whispered and found his voice a rough scratch. “I wanna do somethin’.” Luke’s hands retreated from his hips and Deckard fell to his knees, absolutely _knowing _they would fuck with him later as they clacked to the tile, but hell with it.

He gripped Luke’s heavy prick in his hands and looked up to Luke’s surprised face. “Just gimme a minute, and you won’t regret this.” 

Luke’s mouth opened, but his response was drowned out by a quiet moan when Deckard suckled on the tip of his cock. “Oh, shit,” Luke groaned, and Deckard grinned to himself. His head slid down and he nearly choked on the sheer _size_ of Luke. 

It was warm, in Deckard’s mouth, and he tongued at a vein on the underside. Luke was delirious, spouting deep groans and garbled profanities. Deckard felt his forehead screw up when he went too far and his throat shook. 

Okay, yeah, it had been a while, but he was _sure _he had been able to deepthroat somebody. He twitched his throat until _yup, that’s it_, and Luke’s cock slid into his throat in one deep slide. Deckard couldn’t breathe, but he didn’t mind until hands were on his shoulders shoving him back. 

“The fuck, Luke?” he growled and brought a hand up to wipe the spit off his lips. Luke panted and smiled softly. 

“It was too good, princess. I wouldn’t last long enough to fulfil my promise.” Deckard grinned. It slowly dawned on him that he was sitting on the in Luke’s kitchen, with the neediest hard-on he’d ever had. 

“Mind showing me the bedroom?” 

“Sure. Follow me,” Luke said, and turned away, his cock bouncing obscenely between his legs. Deckard stood and followed.

They entered a bedroom that he barely got to look at before Luke had tossed off his shirt, and _god_, that was an enticing sight. Deckard rubbed hands up and down the planes of muscle, and then hands were shoving off his shirt too.

Deckard felt a bit of old panic enter his head, his insecurity shining through. There was just the right amount of people saying, _'Could you cover-up a bit?'_ or _'Jesus, that's scary looking'_ for him to be nervous. he _knew_ that Luke would understand because Luke worked in this line of business too, and he knew the risks that came with it.

That still didn't stop him from flinching away, from looking to the floor with flushing cheeks. A hand caught his jaw. "Hey," Luke said, "we don't have to go any further." When he didn't get a response, Luke sighed. "You know I don't care, right? I've seen-"

"Yeah, alright, I get it. Jus' gimme a second and shut up," Deckard said and shook the hand off of his jaw. When he felt a little bit more stable than before, he lifted his head and quickly ripped his shirt off, before he could quail again.

Luke's hands were instantly on him, kissing at scars on his chest as hands circled his hips, and dipped a bit lower. "Beautiful," he whispered, and it hit Deckard in a way he didn't think it ever could.

When his eyes stopped burning, he croaked, "Shut up, you wanker," with less bite than he wanted it to have. "I thought you were supposed to be fuckin' me right now."

Luke's answering grin was all he got before he was tossed onto the bed, and flipped onto his hands and knees. His pants were stripped off, and Deckard hissed when his rock-hard erection hit the cold air.

"Lube's in the right drawer," Luke said and Deckard twisted to get it. He struggled, a bit until his fumbling hand grasped the tube.

He tossed it back to Luke, who popped the cap and warmed it on his fingers. When Luke's thick finger probed his entrance, Deckard pushed back and grunted when it slipped inside. _Jesus, it's been a while_. when the finger moved, it just felt interesting, not anything particularly good, or painful.

After a second finger probed inside, he hissed at the uncomfortable burn it brought with it. they stayed still, until Luke curled them and _oh fuck, that felt good_. Pleasure skittered down his spine and he shuddered.

His mouth opened in a world of pleasure-pain, and he mumbled obscenities like "Luke, _fuck_, more - ngk -." as his cock throbbed. Luke chuckled behind him before he removed his fingers, and then placed three more at Deckard's ass. when they pressed inside, Deckard swore and turned.

"Relax, princess," Luke said, and Deckard would have snarked back but he was too busy bearing down.

He stayed like that, until they felt good, _really good_, and he whined for more. Luke huffed behind him and shifted off the bed. Deckard shivered as he heard pants behind him fall, and footsteps walking by the bed.

The crinkle of a condom and Hobbs was back behind him. Deckard felt his asshole tense and Luke gave an appreciative moan. Then there was Luke, pressing in, slowly, and Deckard felt his breath suck away when the head popped in. Luke groaned obscenely, and Deckard joined him with a high pitched whine.

Then Luke kept going and _going_ until Deckard thought he would split and then went more. When Luke finally bottomed out, Deckard cursed and shuddered. It felt like his insides were in coils, and his body was being ripped in half.

He waited for a few minutes, and the burn turned into a far away ache. "Move," he breathed and pushed his hips back. Luke got the message, and slowly pulled out before pushing back in.

Deckard would never admit it till the end of his days, but Luke insisted that at that moment, he _screamed_. And yes, he might have, because right then it got _good_.

His mind eclipsed over itself as Luke continued, and he found himself moaning and whining like a cheap rentboy.

It may have lasted seconds, or minutes, and Deckard might never know, because the nest thing he did know, he was spilling over a hand he didn't know Luke wrapped around his dick and yelling out and "Oh, _fuck_!"

It was a little dark after that, and then his eyes blinked open to the sight of Luke smiling at him. "What're you grinnin' at, wanker?" he asked, though his tone might have been belied by the smile his mouth betrayed him with.

"The best fuck I've ever had," Luke responded. Deckard smiled and found himself burying his head into Luke's chest.

It was warm, and a hand was stroking his back and he was tired. So no one could blame him for dropping off to the most peaceful sleep he's ever had.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't even know any more. Anyway, that was the first time I've ever written smut. Sorry if it sucks.


End file.
